


Fixation

by Lunarblair



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 14:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6910189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarblair/pseuds/Lunarblair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking back, Scorpius wonders when he became the villain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fixation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hp-darkarts's fest 2013. Special thanks to the mods for their saint-like patience and my beta J, who made this fic readable.
> 
> This fic is one of the darkest I've ever written, trying to get into the right head space was uncomfortable to say the least. Personally, I haven't been able to read it through since it was posted. It's not that I haven't read worse, just the emotions I had while I was writing it were pretty heavy.

Certain things were expected of you if you were a Malfoy.

One: you were blond. Two: you were a Slytherin. And three: you hated the Weasleys and the Potters.

Not Scorpius, though. He was a blond, Slytherin Malfoy, but he'd made a conscious effort to get along with the Weasleys and the Potters from the moment he'd met them. This had worked like a charm, especially considering that they weren't nearly as bad as his grandfather claimed that they were.

From an early age, he had been enamoured with stories of the war, the reluctant hero triumphing over the wicked villain. It was like a story from a book, the destruction, causalities and devastating loss merely story arcs, set against a bloody backdrop of eternal glory. Scorpius was fascinated with the figures in these tales, finding romance in the cruel twists of fate that led to their deaths. And then there were the survivors, wracked with guilt and forever asking themselves why they were alive.

Father never told him stories about the war. Instead, he recited countless, banal survival tips and told Scorpius never to trust those not of pure blood. Scorpius figured Father didn't factor Teddy Lupin or Andromeda Tonks into that supremacist equation, or the fact that technically, if one went back far enough, all the pureblood families were related and probably only sustained through Muggle-born witches and wizards breeding with them.

Grandmother, on the other hand, liked to have tea with Andromeda, even bringing Scorpius along a few times. The house was much smaller than the Manor, warmer and more inviting but no less empty. Over tea and biscuits, Grandmother and Andromeda spoke of the war and a girl named Nymphadora, while he pretended to read _The Tales of Beedle the Bard._

There was also talk of Teddy, but he was never quite so interesting. The older boy was far too happy for Scorpius's taste, and where was the beauty in that?

Without tragedy, this is no substance and everything is taken for granted. His cousin had been touched by tragedy, losing his parents and grandfather before he could fully grasp their presence. But his godfather, and the remanding members of the Order of the Phoenix had banded together to help raise him in Mr. And Mrs. Lupin's stead. As a result, Ted Lupin had grown up a loved, well-adjusted child.

How boring.

As he got older his passion for the wizarding war became more focused, by then though his father had cottoned on to what he was spending his allowance on and was far from pleased. He'd assumed that Scorpius had been trying to find out about his past sins, and he'd lectured him for over an hour about the media and it lies, how foolish he'd been for ever trusting such sources.

His books were burned, in an over the top, melodramatic fashion, which he would have found funny had the circumstances allowed. A black coil of rage had unfurled in his gut as he watched his collection go up in flames, pages curling in death. Scorpius had pictured throwing his father in to the fire, to see how he would like it.

Was he a screamer? Probably, but that hadn't been what was so appealing about the image; it was the look of betrayal that would be etched on his face. Going from being a dutiful, if not misguided son, to someone totally unrecognizable, gave him a thrill.

He hadn't had time to ponder this train of thought as his father simply shook his head and left the room. As soon as the door closed Scorpius dived for the fireplace, he pulled out the charred remains, not caring if he hurt his hands. Most of it was ash, crumbling beneath his finger tips; his heart broke at the sight.

He'd thrown it back into the fire, silently cursing his father, when he saw it. The face of Harry Potter stared back up him, inches from the flames, proving him to be a survivor of many forms. Scorpius gingerly picked up the picture; carefully maneuvering it to avoid getting burned. If he hazarded a guess, then it would have been taken just after Fred Weasley's funeral. Ron Weasley had been in the photo too, but had been burnt out of frame, his elbow still partially visible in the far right corner.

It was Harry's eyes, though, that drew Scorpius in, the window to the soul that so captured his attention. There was so much within that one gaze laid bare, yet so much more concealed; he yearned to unravel it all.

After that Scorpius had been more careful to keep his...fixation, of sorts, under wraps. He'd apologized to his father, who had surprisingly offered an apology of his own, then sat Scorpius down and told his side of the story, raising his son's regard of him by several notches. He'd always thought that his father was indifferent and unfeeling, it turned out he was miserable and self-loathing.

A month later he was boarding the Hogwarts Express when he got his first glance of the savior of the Wizarding world. Scorpius had been tuning out his mother at the time. He'd been trying to be subtle in his search for the Potters, so the wind was knocked right out of him when he spotted dark messy hair.

Harry was crouched down on the platform talking to one of his sons. Scorpius couldn't tell which without seeing his face. His green eyes were imploring but kind, not as pretty as the ones in the featured in the photo that Scorpius had kept safely hidden away in his copy of _Hogwarts: A History._

His father had given his shoulder a hard squeeze, telling him to stay out of trouble.  
No one wanted to share a compartment with him. They huddled in groups and whispered his name out in the corridor. Mother had been worried about how the other children would treat him, that the stigma that had followed the Malfoy name would affect his ability to make friends. Scorpius didn't care if he made friends or not; forming connections like that now could lead to later weakness.

But he wanted to learn more about the Potters, real information, not second-hand gossip. To accomplish this goal he'd have to make friends with one the Potter children. Albus Severus was in his year and would be far easier to approach.

~ 

When he was finished with Hogwarts, Scorpius decided to become a Healer. He had the grades and St. Mungo's was the showground for death and decay. His mother was over the moon, gushing about how this would finally prove the Malfoys had turned over a new leaf. The way his father looked at him was unnerving, as if knew exactly what was going on in Scorpius 's head; how terrifying that must have be for him.

Cauldron explosions, dragon pox, mystery rashes and incorrectly-applied charms were common place within the walls of the hospital. At first glance they would seem to be dull to attend to, but people could have the most extreme reactions to the smallest of injuries.

He loved working in the Janus Thickey Ward. Not for the patients, but the relatives—their underlying fatigue gradually got worse every time they were in the presence of their loved ones. Shadows darkened their features, diminishing their kindly, understanding smiles.

Scorpius didn't risk visiting Alice and Frank Longbottom. His former professor was sharp when it came to people. And he had the feeling that without a Potter or Weasley to act as a buffer, he'd see right through him.

Albus had gotten a job as an Unspeakable. Their work schedules meant they saw little of each other over the next two years. So when Albus suddenly dropped by his apartment one day out of the blue, he was surprised. He looked tired, shoulders hunched as he sat at Scorpius's kitchen table staring down at his cup of tea like he didn't know what to make of it.

Anguish twisted his features into something beautiful, and he spoke barely above a whisper. 'Dad was ambushed. They hit him with whole barrage of hexes and curses. It's bad, Scorp, nobody knows what to do.' Tears slid down his face, 'he's practically an invalid.'

'Shit.' Scorpius muttered, excitement bubbling in his chest. 'When did this happen?'

'Two weeks ago. They've caught most of the guys involved and there's a team hunting down the rest.'

Albus leaned forward and grabbed his hand from across the table. 'I was wondering if you could take care of him? I know it's a lot to ask, but—'

'Look, if the top healers at St. Mungo's can't do anything, there is no way I can help.' Scorpius reasoned.

As much as he'd like to see Harry, the broken hero, it sounded like there was little he could do to treat him. Albus wasn't giving up, though.

'Please, Scorpius. He needs round-the-clock care. I want someone I can trust, someone who'll be discreet!'

Scorpius was going to point out that anyone they hire is contractually obligated to do so. But he knew Albus was well aware of that and that this was a personal favour. To provide the care Harry needed, he'd have to move in with them.

'Okay, I'll do it.'

~ 

He arrived at the Potters' house at noon the next day, stepping through the floo. Kingsley Shacklebolt greeted him and made him sign a confidentiality agreement then and there. Harry's condition was not yet public knowledge, and he intended to keep it that way. As far as anybody else outside the family knew, Harry was taking a well deserved holiday in Romania. His successor, Mathias Burke, was tending to his duties until he came back.

The Potter's house was the same as the last time he visited, handsomely furnished and decorated in a warm array of colours. It had a loving feel to it.

Once the paperwork was in order, Kingsley thanked him for the services and left. Scorpius stared after him until the embers snuffed out. _The Minister must be scrambling to keep this under wraps. The head Auror taken out by a group of vigilantes could lead to panic._

Albus was waiting outside Harry's room for him. He embraced Scorpius as soon as he was within reach. 'Thank you so much for doing this. If there's anything I can do for you, just name it,' he promised in feverish tones.

Scorpius shook his head. 'Al, we're friends. This is a rough time for your family. I just want to be here for you.'

The door opened. An old woman in a dowdy blue dress jumped when she saw them. She glared and clutched her chest. 'Oh! You gave me a fright, lingering in doorways like a pair of dementors!' Her neck wobbled as she spoke, reminding Scorpius of a turkey wattle.

Albus tittered, winking at him. 'Scorpius, this is Margery Finkle. She's the Mediwitch who's been tending to Dad since he left the hospital.'

The room was spacious and tidy. A small table was positioned beside the large, four-poster mahogany bed; Harry sat propped up on pillows, and he smiled at Scorpius when he came into view. A dark chair was placed at the foot of the bed. Albus sat down in it as soon as they entered.

'He should be at the hospital. Aurors! Haven't a lick of sense, I tell you,' Margery remarked, looking pointedly at Harry, who gave her a sheepish look in return.

She walked over to the window, and pulled the curtains back to let in some of the fading light.

A heavy weight settled in his gut. Harry was not broken; he was resilient. Was there anything this man couldn't come back from?

The disappointment helped steady his sympathetic gaze. 'Hi, Mr. Potter,' he greeted warmly. 'It's me, Scorpius Malfoy. Do you remember me?'

Of course he did, but the satisfaction he got from that nod was immensely gratifying. Margery stepped forward, clipboard in hand.' All diagnosed hexes and curses have been treated,' she sighed, 'However, Mr. Potter remains mostly paralysed. He has limited movement in his limbs, face, and neck.'

'No one knows the cause?'

It felt weird to be talking like Harry wasn't there, but he wanted to understand the situation he was getting into. Margery's expression became sombre . 'Given Mr. Potter's job and history, it is possible that he's suffered a breakdown of some sort.'

So psychological, then. That was infinitely better than him merely being cursed. He felt immensely cheered up, to witness the moment when Harry Potter's past finally caught up with him.

Addressing Harry, Scorpius asked, 'Have you considered undertaking a course of shock spell therapy?'

Albus stood up straighter. 'No!'

Harry looked at Albus sternly before sending Scorpius an apologetic glance and firmly shaking his head.

Clearing his throat, Albus said,'I mean, Dad doesn't want to do that.'

'Until we ascertain what is causing Mr. Potter's condition, we have prescribed him a Regeneration Potion.' said the Mediwitch.

Scorpius furrowed his brow. 'Regeneration?'

'Nothing like the one Voldemort used in '95—' Albus began, before Margery cut him off.

'Yes, thank you, Albus. This potion is tailored specifically for the regeneration of the muscles.' She looked at him, raising an eyebrow. 'Along with the exercises you'll be performing on Mr. Potter, it will stop muscle atrophy from occurring.'

Scorpius was certain that she thought he wasn't up to the job. She might be right; patient care wasn't his strong point. But he hadn't cared for his other patients. What he felt from watching their suffering was as brief and ephemeral as the gratification he got from a one-night stand. He was introduced to a house elf named Blinkers, who was to act as an aid to Scorpius.

Margery handed over Harry's charts, as well as a list of Scorpius's duties from now on, informing Scorpius that someone from St. Mungo's would come to check on Harry at the end of every month.

The rest was up to him.

~

 

_'Wingardium Leviosa.'_

Scorpius levitated Harry high off the bed. Moving quickly, he tore off the sheets, bundled them up into a ball and threw them on the floor. He picked up the clean sheets and made the bed again, careful not to leave no any creases in the fabric. He propped up the pillows and lowered Harry down.

The next part was harder. He bent Harry's elbow and laid it across his stomach, then placed another pillow between his legs. Scorpius bent Harry's knees before sliding his hands underneath Harry's shoulders and rotating him towards himself, holding him in a foetal position; he took a moment to catch his breath. It was so much easier when Albus was here.

He tried rotating Harry in the air once, but the buttons on Harry's pyjama top had burst open under his weight and he had fallen forward head first, half of his body still levitating above. Scorpius had panicked when he heard strained coughing. He lifted the spell, abruptly dropping the rest of Harry on the bed. He'd rolled Harry over without going through the proper procedure, only to see amusement dancing in his eyes. Scorpius realized that he'd been laughing.

Margery has gotten wind of this and sent him a Howler, telling him in no short order that if he was so incompetent that he couldn't turn a patient in bed himself, then he should leave it to qualified professionals.

Keeping his back straight and knees apart, Scorpius pulled Harry towards the top of the bed, letting out a relieved sigh. He then threw himself down on the chair. He'd be have to move him again in two hours. Albus would be home later that night. With his assistance, he could move Harry with a lot more care.

'Would you like a blanket?'

Harry nodded, gratitude shining in his countenance. He feebly tried to aid Scorpius in these daily tasks. Harry only became visibly upset when he had to have help going to the toilet. The response was one that he'd waited for, green eyes consumed with indignation and a touch of self-pity.

He refilled the jug of water on the bedside table, and poured Harry another glass as Blinkers came in with dinner. Making sure he was propped up properly, Scorpius conjured a napkin and placed it over Harry's lap and assisted him with his meal.

Albus came home and relieved Scorpius of his duties for a little while. Dragging his heels, Scorpius made his way to his room, trusting that he'd be woken if he was needed.

They had visitors all weekend. Arthur and Molly Weasely came by; Molly had fussed over Harry for well over an hour. Ron, Hermione, Hugo and Rose stopped by for lunch, updating him about the shop and Hermione's latest crusade for equality. Scorpius didn’t engage them in conversation. Instead, he passed a polite greeting, working around them in silence; Rose had tried to catch his eye multiple times but Scorpius refused to be drawn in.

James's visit brought the volume up several notches; fortunately, Ginny had been there to pull him into line. Lily wanted to know what they were doing to help her father, insisting that they simply weren't doing enough. Harry lit up when they were in room, never losing his soft smile then entire time they were there. Scorpius wondered if he was lonely with only Albus living there.

When the excitement died down, they went back to their regular routine uninterrupted.

After dinner, it was time for Harry's bath. He turned on the wireless and went to go grab some towels. It was better to have background noise to focus on. Talking to someone while you were rubbing them down with a sponge was extremely awkward, at least for him. He had to pretend to not be disturbed or fascinated by the flesh revealed him, to come across in a very clinical how-do-you do I've seen everything manner.

Scorpius was put to the test when he first saw Harry Potter naked. He was still fit for his age, and his body was littered with pretty pink and silver scars. For his part, Harry wasn't self conscious, not looking even the tiniest bit uncomfortable being in the buff in front of him. Arms laden with towels, Scorpius nearly stumbled on Blinkers on the way back into the room. The house elf squawked, and righted himself before he could spill the bucket of water in his hands.

'Blinkers is sorry, sir!'

Ignoring him, Scorpius took the bucket and placed it on the bedside table. He dropped all the towels but one on the chair and turned back to Harry. With a quick flick of his wand he'd levitated him off the bed. Then, he laid the remaining towel on top of the sheets. He liked to do this as an extra precaution. He didn't want Margery breathing down his neck.

He lowered Harry down and gingerly started undoing the buttons of his pyjama top. Scorpius had to keep his fingers from shaking in anticipation. He could do this with magic, but then he'd be giving up his only chance to touch Harry so intimately.

He raised Harry into a sitting position and cast a heating charm on the room, Scorpius then removed Harry's glasses before setting them down on the table. Pulling a cloth from out of the bucket, he wrung out the excess and got to work.

Tilting Harry's chin toward him, he gently wiped his face, hot breath tickling his hand. An image flashed in his mind of him stealing a kiss. Dismissing it quickly, he went back to the task at hand, lest his desire be written on his face. Lifting up one of Harry's arms, he worked from his fingers up to the armpit. He cast a drying spell, then repeated the process on his other arm.

_'Oh, come and stir my cauldron...'_

Celestina Warbeck came on over the wireless. Harry scrunched up his nose, and Scorpius laughed. 'I take it you're not a a fan?'

With an exaggerated shake of his head, Harry rolled his eyes. Dipping the cloth back into water and squeezing out the excess, Scorpius washed Harry's chest and stomach, letting his thumb skim over bare skin. Scorpius then pushed Harry back into the mattress gently, next removing his pyjama bottoms and pants.

His heart was beating wildly as he cleaned Harry's legs, up and down, methodically drying them; Endeavouring not to ogle the thick cock nestled between coarse dark curls.

If he didn't reign it in Harry was bound to notice, and that would lead to questions, questions that he wasn't ready to answer. The fact that Harry was mute was convenient and it's not as if he could write it out, alerting others to Scorpius's inappropriate behaviour.

Scorpius could do whatever he wanted to Harry in this state, and there was not a thing Harry could do to stop him. The thought scorched his insides. He let the cloth drop onto the towel below, allowing his attention to turn where he wanted it. He chanced a glance at Harry, who was focused on something he couldn't see, mind elsewhere.

He ran a finger up the length, feeling Harry shiver beneath him. Scorpius made a deliberate motion, grabbing his cock, he watched as Harry's eyes widened in alarm; that's what he wanted to see. Struggling to raise his head, and twitching his limbs with great effort, Harry reached for the bell cord.

Scorpius Summoned his wand and bound him to the bed. 'We're going to have a little fun. Don't spoil it.'

Encircling Harry's cock once again, he teased the slit, gleeful at the sharp intake of breath he received in response. He began stroking him rhythmically, listening intently to every sound he drew out from the defenseless man's lips, so caught up that he barely had a second to dodge the lamp that flew through the air.

The lamp hit the wall with a resounding smash. Scorpius looked at Harry incredulously. 'Did you do that?'

Harry glared, mouth set in a resolute line, anger pouring out of his body in waves. If he had his wand, Scorpius was sure that he'd have been hit with a particularly nasty hex. With that thought in mind, he squeezed the hot flesh in his hand, enjoying the velvety feel and the way it twitched with interest. 'Play nice.' he ordered.

Scorpius curled his lips over his teeth and took the head of Harry's cock inside his mouth, sucking hard until it hit the back of his throat, tickling at his gag reflex. He formed a tight seal around the base, then went back up the length, trailing his tongue on the underside of the shaft. He used his hand to stroke what couldn't fit into his mouth.

Harry was moaning incoherently with a note of distress, sweet music to Scorpius's ears. It didn't take long before Harry made a high pitched wail, coming down Scorpius's throat.

He swallowed what he could, then withdraw and wiped his mouth., Harry was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He'd have to bathe him again, which was probably for the best —he'd forgotten the soap.

Scorpius reheated the water. 'This will just be between the two of us.'

Harry was bright red in the face. "No way," he mouthed. Scorpius chuckled. 'Think about it. If you report me, there will be a formal inquiry. Considering who you are and what my last name is, I don't think it'll be too long before the media find out.

'Lily's still in school, and you know how cruel kids can be. They'll be asking if her dad's a shirt-lifter, although they won't put it as nicely,' he said with a grin.

Harry wouldn't react to a threat to his own reputation. He was never one to care about what people thought of him. On the other hand, his family—especially his children—hadn't grown that thick skin yet. They'd lived sheltered lives, their parents protecting them from harsh life lessons. If what Scorpius just did got out, they wouldn't be able to handle the onslaught of public opinion.

'What will this do to your children?'

~

 

When he woke up the next day and nobody was hauling him off the premises, he assumed Harry had agreed to his terms.

He didn't like the way Harry lowered his eyes as he entered the room now, effectively pulling the blinds down and shutting him out. Inwardly seething, Scorpius jerked Harry off whenever the opportunity presented itself. He loved the guilty expression on Harry's face after he came, like he was the one taking advantage of Scorpius.

Since the line had already been crossed, Scorpius spoke to him more candidly, bit by bit but divulging his true nature. Strangely, Harry didn't seem surprised. Maybe he should have given the man more credit; he was an Auror, after all. He had probably hoped that Scorpius could be saved if given the right guidance. Otherwise, he wouldn't have allowed Albus to be friends with him.

Albus was working later and later. The stress of his father's care was too much for him. Scorpius didn't mind in the slightest. He could get away with so much more without the threat of his presence.

~ 

Scorpius sank down on his cock and rode Harry hard, watching mesmerized as Harry thrashed his head from side to side. Broken cries tumbled from his lips, eyes screwed shut as if in pain.

Digging his fingernails into Harry's face, Scorpius growled, 'Look at me!'

His eyes snapped open, and Scorpius saw the raw emotion burning below the surface, the man beneath him tangible and real. Fisting his own cock he brought himself off with a few quick jerks, back arching, his hips faltering as came with a raspy moan. Below him Harry sobbed with obvious frustration. The need to thrust up into the tight heat must be driving him crazy.

Scorpius clamped his inner muscles with force and Harry threw his head back, neck straining as his body shuddered uncontrollably. Catching his breath, he traced Harry's face absent-mindedly. 'I want to rip your eyes out...but then they'd just be empty reflections looking back at me.'

That would be boring, and Scorpius wanted this new arrangement to last. Having the great Harry Potter at his mercy was something he'd dreamed about. He wanted to unlock all the secrets held within those striking green eyes.

Given their new activities, Scorpius was getting worn out more often. As a side affect he was piling more of his work load on Blinkers. He hoped that Margery wouldn't find out.

Rose visited again, bringing Harry flowers, but over stayed her welcome as usual. Making a nuisance was her creed, as she continually bumped into Scorpius as he tried to go about his routine. If he hadn't experienced the same level of disruption from her before he'd have thought she was doing it on purpose.

He was never more thankful for her departure. After she left, he fetched Harry a glass of water, and turned to gazed out the window.

'Rose is precious, isn't she?' he remarked conversationally, then added in a low tone: 'I'd hate for something bad to happen to her.'

Harry scoffed, shaking his head. It had been a long day, and Scorpius was in no mood to deal with Harry's stubbornness. 'Don't test me, Harry. You have no idea what I'm capable of,' he warned with all the conviction he felt.

~ 

Scorpius opened the door, and his heart dropped at the sight before him.

Harry was on the floor, legs entangled in the sheets.

'What are you-'

Stepping forward, he saw that Harry had pulled the clipboard off the bedside table. His hand was spasming around a quill. It appeared he was attempting to write something. Scorpius raced over, ripping the board from underneath him. 'That was a very bad idea,' he hissed.

If Albus had been home —well, he didn't want to think about what would have happened.

Harry didn't answer, breathing heavily from exertion, his entire body shaking with force. This change did not bode well for Scorpius. Harry was recovering, and his blackmail was no longer sufficient to keep Harry quiet. But Harry obviously still couldn't talk, so he still had a small window of opportunity to swing things in his favour.

'Since you're down here ...,' he said, kneeling behind Harry.

He slowly pulled down Harry's pyjama bottoms. Scorpius watched him carefully, trying to gauge how much movement he was capable of doing. Immediately Harry leaned on his elbows, pushing himself up in vain, but he collapsed onto the carpet when Scorpius pushed him down and yanked his pants off. Scorpius spat in his hand and roughly slid two digits inside Harry's arse, earning him a choked whimper. Harry tried to crawl away, but Scorpius pulled him back into place by his pyjama top.

He undid his trousers and pulled himself out, then stroked until he was hard. He lined his cock up and pushed inside, enveloping his length in tight heat. It was overwhelming. He wished he could see Harry's face, but he had to make do with Harry's fingers scratching into the floor.

Harry made odd chocking noises, body rocking with each thrust. Scorpius wondered what he was thinking. Was he damning the fates? That after all the battles won and sacrifice he was condemned to being a Malfoy's bitch. Life wasn't fair, but this must really take the cake, and yet he was not breaking down. No tears had been shed.

Scorpius pumped his hips furiously, his breath came out in quick pants. He wanted to hear him scream. But his excitement got the better of him, and he couldn't hold back. He lost control and came hard inside him. Harry hadn't come. He hadn't even gotten aroused throughout the ordeal.

Scorpius lay there for a moment before sliding out. He pulled his trousers back on, then cast a quick Scourgify on them both. Redressing him, Scorpius levitated Harry back onto the bed, Harry was staring listlessly at the ceiling.

He picked Harry's glasses up from the floor and placed them back on his face. 'I bet you think I do this out of spite,' he said, pushing the sweat-soaked hair off Harry's brow. 'But that couldn't be farther from the truth.'

Closing the door behind him, he exhaled. That was too close. Harry was getting his strength back. The potion must actually be working, then. He'd have to remedy that. He found Blinkers soon enough, he was in the kitchen preparing a meal. On the bench lay a vial with of blue liquid, the bane of Scorpius's existence.

'Blinkers.' The house elf stopped in his tracks. 'We won't be needing anymore of the Regeneration Potion,' he said from the doorway.

The house elf frowned in confusion, looking towards the vial. 'But Blinkers was told to give the potion to Master with every meal...'

Losing his patience, Scorpius yelled, 'And I'm telling you, he doesn't need it!'

Shrinking upon himself, Blinkers nodded.'Yes, sir.'

Scorpius nodded, too, relieved. Nothing would change. The small world he'd constructed would not be destroyed. He'd have the man who held his fascination for over a decade all to himself.

~ 

 

'I know what you've been doing to Uncle Harry...'

Rose was standing near the bed, where Harry was sleeping soundly. The tone she used told him that she knew exactly what he was doing with her Uncle Harry; he regarded her with condescension.

'Taking care of him?'

She scoffed, 'If that's what their calling sexual assault these days.'

Rose was fiddling with her wand, watching him like a hunter does prey. 'In seventh year,' she said suddenly, 'I'd lost my potions book, so I thought I'd borrow yours, because what are friends for?'

He had no idea where this was going.

'Imagine my surprise when I found your little shrine instead. It was creepy. I started to wonder how genuine you really were. So I kept an eye on you.'  
He sneered at her. 'Oh, and what did you see?'

'I thought you were an arsehole of the highest order,' she said bluntly, 'but you hadn't done anything to hurt my family and I still valued you as a friend.'

'A pity to have to waste such loyalty on me,' he taunted, the girl had always had his back, sticking up for him when others put him down.

'But when I heard you were going to take care of Uncle Harry, I planted a spy...'

A spy? There were only two others in the house who were around frequently enough to garner that kind of information. It couldn't have been Albus. He was barely at the Potter household these days, then that meant—  
'Bloody Blinkers...' He never did like that elf, but he never thought that it would be his downfall.

Rose wasn't finished. She continued hotly, 'When you stopped giving Uncle Harry his potion, Blinkers alerted me and I ordered him to slip it in his food.'

Harry was still on the mend, then. This was going to get messy and fast. There was no way he would get away with killing either of them, and he had nothing to offer Rose in compensation for her silence. Game over, he lost.

'I wonder how long someone gets in Azkaban for raping the savior of the wizarding world?' she asked scathingly.

No, they'd give him the kiss, but not before all of Harry Potter's supporters got through with him. There was no way out of this now. They'd hunt him and his family down until justice was served. He looked into her blazing blue eyes. There was beauty in strength, too. Shame he never invested much in it before

Pointing his wand at his head, he closed his eyes. 'Avada—'


End file.
